The New Guy
by PrincessYaoi
Summary: Jameson is a widower...again. The Daily Bugle's newest reporter takes an interest in his boss, and Jameson's not too sure he likes the advances. Written with AJAngelique
1. Dare You to Move

Written with help from AJAngelique.**  
Disclaimer**: I do not own Spiderman or any of the characters from the story.  
**Warning**: This is a slash meaning that it happens to be a story about two men who fall in love with one another. This story (just in case you didn't look) is also rated mature, because there will be some sexual material later on.

* * *

"Well, that was brilliant!" Jameson stated sarcastically, leaning forward to tap off the ashes from his cigar, "Don't call us, we'll call you." The last applicant of the day mumbled some disheartened thanks, and stalked out of the room. Jameson ruffled through the papers, muttering with only a quick glance at the clock. A double take proved to him that it was indeed six a clock. 

"Shit, I'm late." Jameson growled, dropping the papers onto his desk again. "Maria's going to kill me," He grumbled, as he left all the application papers on the desk, grabbed his suitcase, coat, and keys, and dashed out of the office. The tail end of rush hour traffic didn't help his mood any; especially not since it died down just five minutes from home. Jameson practically broke in the door. With closed eyes to guard his throbbing head, Jameson simultaneously dropped his suitcase and loosened his tie while calling out to his wife.

"Honey, I'm home. What's for dinner?" He yelled. When no response came, Jameson rubbed his aching head wearily, and called out again, "Maria?" Still no response. Only now did Jameson bother to open his eyes, and was surprised to find that all the lights were out. The eerie silence became that much more troubling. Thinking that perhaps his wife had left, Jameson stomped into the kitchen only to find her keys on the counter. His eyebrows raised as a troubling thought crossed his mind.

Jameson crept up the stairs to the second floor. Scanning the hallway carefully, he noticed that his bedroom door, normally kept shut, was slightly ajar. Determined not to panic, Jameson moved silently to the bedroom door, lifted up his left hand and pushed the door the rest of the way open. He had expected an attack. The sight that greeted him was far worse. His wife lay, half off the bed, in a pool of blood. After the initial shock, Jameson found himself drifting towards his wife.

His mind willed him to say her name in an attempt to revive her, but all that came out was a muffled choke. Taking his wife by the shoulder, he shook her ever so slightly as not to cause her any more pain. When she did not seem to wake, Jameson carefully turned his wife over. Her eyes stared blankly upward, and her jaw dropped open.

A few seconds passed before Jameson's mind allowed him to realize what was going on. A horrified look fell across his face, and Jameson let out a terrified howl.

* * *

**One Month Later**

Jameson stalked through the building, barking gruff remarks to anyone brave enough to wish him a good morning. A particularly chipper person made the mistake of stepping into Jameson's path.

"Good morning, sir!" The poor idiot wore a huge white grin that pinged multiple times. Jameson stood very still, sending a death glare to the young intern, biting his tongue before he could wish the man to hell.

"Shut. Up." Jameson commanded in an icy tone of voice, venom dripping profusely from each word.

"Yes sir." The young man murmured meekly, before he hurried back to his cubicle. A collective 'ooooh' filled the room, earning the rest of the Daily Bugle employees a similar glare. Everyone resumed work immediately, taking care not to look Jameson in the eye.

"Why do you have to be like that?" Robbie insisted, following Jameson into his office. Jameson ignored the question, circling his desk and reaching for a cigar. The first thing he noticed as he was stretching was that the resumes he had left were missing.

"Where're the resumes?" Jameson demanded. The young man standing next to Robbie caught finally his attention. "Who the hell are you?"

"Jason Maxwell, sir. I'm the new reporter." The young man extended his hand. He was barely older than Jameson's son. If Jameson had taken the time to notice, Jason had beautiful sky-blue eyes and light blond hair the color of wheat. Jameson noticed none of this.

"I didn't hire you. Get out." Jameson commanded gruffly, pointing briefly to the door. He began opening desk drawers as Robbie caught Jason by the shoulder and gave him a look that meant he should stay.

"Of course you didn't hire him; I did." Robbie stated calmly. Jameson was beginning to get irritated by that calm demeanor, and shot him an accusatory glare. Robbie merely added, "You were out of the office for a _month_, Jonah. We needed the new reporter ASAP."

"I promise I won't disappoint you, sir." Jason stated confidently, standing almost at attention.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work." Jameson growled, finally lighting his cigar and sitting down. Jason faltered for a moment, before heading back to his cubicle. Robbie glanced over his notes wearily.

"Well, now that you're back—" He began, fully intending to give Jameson brought up to speed on all of the things he had missed. A rather obnoxious voice interrupted.

"Hey, bro." Jameson and Robbie both lifted their heads to look at the vaguely Italian looking man in the office doorway.

"David? What're you doing here?" Jameson demanded in the same irritated voice. The day had barely started, and already everyone was getting in his way.

"Take a walk with me." David said simply, striding up to the desk and taking one of Jameson's cigars nonchalantly.

"I'm busy." Jameson insisted, taking the cigar away from David, and placing it back in the box where it came from. "Go away."

"Oh, come now, is that any way to treat family?" David inquired patiently. By now, he was sitting on the edge of Jameson's desk and leaning forward to whisper, "I think I might have something to say that that might just explain this whole…murder business." Jameson's eyes narrowed menacingly. David just gazed back, undaunted.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it." Jameson declared loudly, turning his chair to face away from the man on his desk. David grabbed a corner of the chair and turned Jameson back around.

"I think you'd be glad you did." David persisted, and with this Jameson gave a resigned shrug.

"Fine. Robbie, keep an eye on the office until I get back."

* * *

"Three weeks into my new job and I'm still being sent on coffee runs." Jason muttered, drumming his fingers on the Starbucks counter. The ringing of a bell alerted him to the entry of more customers who would probably get their orders first. He hated ordering for fifteen people because it got pushed back so easily for smaller requests. It had already been pushed back three times that very morning. 

Jason turned his head slightly, just in time to recognize his boss entering along side a dark-haired man that appeared to be a misplaced rancher. Jason raised an eyebrow, wondering what Jameson could be doing here. He had assumed that if Jameson wanted coffee, that he would have merely sent an order along with the plethora that Jason received every morning. It was not until Jameson sat down while his companion approached the counter to order coffee that Jason noticed the pissed-off look in his boss's eye, the same one that he had encountered earlier that day. Jason was grateful that the glare it was directed towards the fake plants instead of him this time.

As he waited for his rather large order to be filled, Jason heard the conversation between Jameson and the man accompanying him.

"Didn't you ever wonder how Maria got all that money that she invested in the newspaper?" Queried the stranger. Jameson raised his eyebrows, curious as to why his brother-in-law would be asking such a question.

"Sure. Your family is in the oil business." Jameson replied as though it were obvious. David looked amused at this.

"The oil business?" He repeated, stifling a laugh. "Maria always said you were a moral man, Jameson. I suppose that's why she didn't tell you. See, Dad is the head of the Italian Mafia. Maria was murdered by a rival gang."

"What? That's absurd!" Jameson declared loudly, sitting up straighter. David shushed him.

"Would you cool it? Just listen to me for a minute." David murmured, and Jameson settled down again, glaring at the distasteful imitation flora. "Maria never wanted any part of the life of a mobster." Jameson snorted, opening his mouth to interrupt. David continued with the rest of his story, taking no notice of the man across from him

"So one night she took a great deal of money and ran. When we found her, she had already married you and invested most of it in your newspaper. Dad decided that it would be best to just leave her be; the only interference he allowed in your lives was to let a couple of his men to check up on her occasionally. They…weren't there when Maria was killed."

"I don't believe it!" Jameson maintained adamantly, standing again. Just as he said this, the girl at the counter announced that his and David's orders were ready, and Jameson stormed to the counter. Jameson slammed his money on the counter and grabbed his coffee before he noticed Jason.

"What are you doing here? Eavesdropping?" Jameson demanded irritably.

"Uh…n-no sir! I would never- I just-" Jason stammered guiltily, pulling away from his boss.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?" Jameson wanted to know. Jason looked dismayed as the Starbucks employee placed his fifteen coffee orders on the counter.

"Your total comes to fifty-eight dollars and ten cents, sir." The girl stated after she had rung up the order.

"Coffee run." Jason murmured uneasily, giving Jameson a weak smile as he placed the money for the order on the counter.


	2. Cry

It was ten minutes to noon and Jason was comfortably hiding his cubicle after the Starbucks incident. Thinking that it was safe to venture out to lunch, Jason reached for his briefcase. Just as he stepped out of the cubicle, Jameson appeared out of no where, walking briskly past.

"You. Follow me." Jameson ordered, pointing directly at Jason. Jason stopped with a deer-in-the-headlights expression; he had hoped to avoid further scathing comments for the day.

"Yes sir." He answered meekly, trying to keep up with his boss. It was only when Jason was outside that Jameson noticed how far behind him that the young man was.

"Hurry up, kid! We haven't got all day." Jameson barked, waiting for Jason to catch up.

"If I may, sir, where exactly are we going?" Jason queried. Jameson grunted in response. "Sir?" Jason asked again, not willing to be brushed off so easily. Jameson looked at the younger man questioningly, unused to being challenged.

"You'll know when we get there." He stated firmly, speeding up his pace.

"I'd really rather know now." Jason insisted, easily keeping in step with his boss. They walked in silence for a while.

"All right," Jameson grumbled, "We're going to the Four Seasons hotel."

"Excuse me?" Jason queried, stopping in his tracks, "What are you taking me to a hotel for?" In the young man's mind, hotels were good for only one thing: drunken one—night stands. He had had several, most of which, if not all, had taken place at the very hotel to where his boss was leading him.

"There's a press conference for the Kenyan Princess. Her country is donating some artifacts for a display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art." Jameson explained curtly.

"Oh." A look of realization swept across Jason's face, and he blushed profusely. "**_OH!_**" Jameson raised an eyebrow at this rather unexpected outburst.

"What did you think I was taking you there for," He demanded, "Candy?" Jason averted his eyes, and resumed walking.

_Great, my boss thinks I'm crazy. _Jason thought morosely as Jameson joined him, walking just a step ahead.

Noting the mortified look on the young man's face, Jameson teased, "Don't worry; I'll get you some gum on the way out." Jason's blush turned from pink to bright crimson, and his step faltered. Jameson allowed the left side of his face to smirk, the side towards his newest reporter remaining stone cold.

* * *

Jason sat uncomfortably next to his boss on the subway. While Jameson seemed perfectly content to glare at the book in his lap. Jason couldn't help but wonder if Jameson was sexier with or without his glasses on.

Jameson felt the weight of eyes upon him, and looked up. "Find something interesting?" He wanted to know, putting his book aside.

"Um, about earlier today," Jason lied quickly, waving his hand dismissively, "You know the whole Starbucks thing. I'm sorry I was eavesdropping."

"So you admit it!" Jameson declared triumphantly.

"What?" Jason sat up straighter, affronted. He had not expected this reaction.

"You're just like kids your age. No respect for authority." Jameson continued, oblivious to the interruption. "How did you manage to get Robbie to hire you, anyway?" Jason's jaw hung open.

"It's not a lack of respect, _sir_," Jason finally retorted, "I merely overheard. It was entirely unintentional." Jameson scoffed at this.

Jameson was just about to argue the point further when the subway began to shudder, making all sorts of annoying screeching sounds along the way. Jason was thrown halfway into the larger man's lap as the train lurched to a stop with a sickening thud.

"Get up!" Jameson ordered, grabbing the reporter by the arm and dragging him to his feet. Jason was vaguely aware of other people running past him as he tried to regain his stability. Jameson wasn't going to wait, however; he continued to drag Jason down the car towards a newly made exit at the end. Jameson was barely a couple of inches from the way out when rubble fell in the way, making the train shudder and throwing the two remaining occupants to the floor. Jameson cursed, and began to look for another way out. Jason grabbed his briefcase.

After retrieving his phone, Jason hurriedly dialed 911, just in time for Jameson to come back, cursing once more.

"We're trapped." The older man stated grimly. Jason nodded in acknowledgement. A look of relief swept across his face when a voice spoke to him from the other end.

"911, how may we help you?" The calm voice requested.

"The subway's collapsed!" Jason shouted, his panic finally being released. His boss looked at the young man inquiringly about the outburst, but Jason took no notice.

"It's okay, sir. What train are you on?" The woman wanted to know.

"The 12:15 to--" A beep caught Jason off guard. Looking at his cell phone, he cursed.

"What happened?" Jameson demanded, scowling at Jason. Jason scowled back more out of fear of his boss than anger.

"My phone died." He answered flatly. Jameson did a double take and looked like he was about to start shouting.

"_What?_" He demanded in a booming voice, "You didn't charge it this morning?"

"What about your phone?" Jason queried, shrinking like a mouse about to be attacked. A sheepish look crossed the older man's face. "What's the matter?"

"I left it at the office." Jameson said almost inaudibly.

* * *

**Several hours later...**

Jason rubbed his eyes unbelievingly. Had he just seen...? No, it couldn't have been...could it?

"Was that a naked clown that went dancing by?" He muttered incoherently. A growling of the stomach interrupted his thoughts. "Oh, I'm hungry." Jason turned his head to gaze lazily at his boss. The gaze lingered a bit too long, catching Jameson's attention.

"What?" Jameson demanded gruffly. Jason came back to reality with a thud.

"Are you hungry, sir?" He asked, sitting up straighter.

"Yeah, so?" Jameson asked, laying his head back down.

"So, would you like to share my lunch?" Jason reached for his briefcase, trying to avoid eye contact.

"You have food?" Jameson asked in disbelief. As he said this, Jason had his briefcase in his lap. Once opened, Jason revealed a store-bought sandwich, two bags of chips, half a bag of Oreos, an orange, and two cans of coke.

"You have black hole for a stomach, kid?" Jameson joked, sliding closer to Jason than he realized. Both mouths watered; Jameson's for the food, Jason's for Jameson. Resisting the urge to molest his boss, Jason took the sandwich instead and tore away the wrapper.

"Here." Jason shoved half of the sandwich under Jameson's nose. The feelings that Jameson's image evoked were coming along much too quickly for Jason's liking.

'This is my first day, and I'm already developing feelings for my boss.' Jason thought blandly, 'Even worse, he's old enough to be my _father_.'

"Are you okay?" Jameson asked as he reached for the chips. Jason wasn't sure if he heard concern in the other man's voice or just politeness, but he shrugged nonchalantly just the same.

"Do you think we'll ever get out of here?" Jason wanted to know. He finally started eating his half of the sandwich.

"Maybe, if they ever figure out which subway we're on." Jameson replied, sounding almost bored. 'Even if we don't get out of here, at least I'll see Maria again.' Unaware, a single tear found its way to Jameson's cheek.

"It's okay, sir! I'm sure that someone who got out will have to have called out too!" Jason managed to say comfortingly. His voice seemed to remind his reluctant companion of his presence.

"What would it matter, anyway?" Jameson asked Jason testily.

"It matters a great deal!" Jason retorted. Seeing the wounded look on his boss's face, he added soothingly, "What's this all about, anyway?" Jason lifted a hand to wipe away the tear and Jameson batted it a way fiercely.

"How could anyone do such a thing to her?" Jameson growled, glaring at the subway floor menacingly, "How could she _lie_ to me like that?" A look of realization swept across Jason's face.

"You mean Maria?" He inquired, knowing the answer before he received it. "Look, she didn't—"Jameson grabbed the young reporter by his tie and pulled Jason's face within an inch of his own.

"Not a word from you!" He snarled, "You didn't know her." Jason tried to back away but only managed to have his tie pulled tighter because of Jameson's vice-like grip.

"I know, I just think—"Jason choked, only to be interrupted again.

"Think what? That you can convince me that her death was not my fault?" Jameson continued, "That she was trying to protect me somehow? _ME_, her _husband_, for crying out loud!" At this, the older man let go of Jason's tie. Jason took it off quickly to get some much needed air.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offence," Jason offered calmly. Jameson held his face in his hands, shuddering softly. Uneasily, Jason wrapped his arm around his boss, attempting to comfort him.

At that moment, an annoying screeching sound could be heard from above as the rocks were being pulled away from the door of the train. Both men looked up to see a red and blue clad individual staring back at them.

"Have I come at a bad time?" Spiderman asked, looking at the two men who were at that moment embracing.

"Thank goodness, we've been saved." Jason stated, clumsily getting to his feet. Jameson was not so grateful, however.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" He demanded angrily.

"Hey, you two can get back to whatever you were doing down here," Spiderman replied, backing away carefully. "I'll get out of your way."

"NO!" Jason yelled before, stopping Spiderman in his tracks, "No, I think it would be better all around if you got us out of here."

"If you say so," Spiderman answered uncertainly. "Come on, flat-top."


	3. Someday We'll Know

Jameson had called his newest reporter into his office half an hour ago due to some insignificant mishap that had happened earlier that morning. The man showed no sign of stopping his rant, and Jason was too bored to care what he was being yelled at for. All he knew was that if Jameson didn't shut up soon, he'd have to do something drastic to silence him. His uninterested facade only served to unnerve Jameson further. The aggravated boss stopped his pacing to stand directly in front of Jason; a single finger flew up as Jameson was about to make yet another point, and Jason acted without thinking.

Grabbing Jameson by his tie, Jason yanked the older man close enough to kiss him. Jameson was too confused to react until he discovered a second tongue within his mouth. Roughly shoving Jason away, Jameson wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared venomously. Jason smirked with satisfaction for the next few silent moments.

"What the _HELL_ were you thinking?" Jameson roared. "You better be grateful everyone's on their lunch break, or we'd have been caught!"

Jason opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a thunderous applause. Two faces turned towards the open door to see half of the Daily Bugle cheering and whistling after the performance they had just received. While Jameson looked horrified, Jason looked even more smug. He considered taking a bow, but thought better of it when the door slammed closed and Jameson began yelling even louder.

"What was that all about?" Jameson wanted to know. "What are you, queer?"

"Well, bisexual actually," Jason answered calmly. Judging by the reaction that he was getting, Jameson had enjoyed the kiss but was too afraid to admit it. He had encountered such behavior only once before, and seen it worked out in the past. Only thing was that he wasn't the one doing the working, so he had no idea of how to make his boss more comfortable with the idea.

Meanwhile, Jameson was doing some quick thinking. To be honest, the man standing across the room from him was extremely attractive. On the other hand, Jameson was not inclined to fall in love with another man, and the one he was looking at was young enough to be his son anyway. Besides, this was sexual harrasment, wasn't it? His mind went back and forth, fighting back the thought that he might have just liked the young man kissing him.

"Get back to work," was all that he could manage at the moment, though he said it as fiercely as he would have under any other circumstances. With a wounded look, Jason nodded and exited the office.

* * *

Jason tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. It was five minutes til time to leave, and he was still agonizing over the events that had taken place that afternoon. He hadn't gotten any work done since then, and probably wouldn't the next day. Deciding that it was close enough to time to leave anyway, Jason packed up his breifcase and headed home. At the very least, he could call Eric and see if he had any advice to offer, since he had gone through almost the exact same thing.

Eric picked up on the second ring as Jason rounded the corner, cellphone pressed firmly to his ear.

"Eric here, what's happening?" The voice on the other end querried.

"Hey, it Jason. Listen, I have a situation," Jason answered, turning yet another corner. He went quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how exactly to put it.

"Let me guess, guy problems?" Eric stated bluntly; Jason could almost hear the smirk over the phone.

"Huh?" Jason asked absently, noting that the homeless man was begining to look oddly familiar. "How'd you know?"

"Oh, come on, I know you're gay," Eric sighed.

"I'm _bi_," Jason corrected flatly before adding, "Can we just get this over with?"

"Sure, soon as you tell me your problem," Eric agreed.

"Well, remember all the trouble you had getting together with Mark?"

"Ah, just like that, huh?"

"There's just one minor difference; he's my boss."

"Pretty major difference if you ask me. Who's the lucky man, anyway?"

"J. Jonah Jameson," Jason answered dreamily.

"_JAMESON_? You mean the Jameson of the Daily Bugle?" Eric screamed, waking Jason abruptly. "Hell, boy, don't you think you're getting in over your head here?"

"Eric, I love him!" Jason retorted, "I don't care what you think about him!"

"It's not what I think that matters. Jason, the man is an ass, and old enough to be your father," Eric persisted, "not to mention the fact that he's connected to the Italian Mafia."

"That was his _wife_, Eric!" Jason screeched. "Look, are you going to help me or not?"

"If I say no, will you give up this foolish obsession?" Eric asked half-heartedly.

"No, I'll just pester you until the day you die," Jason answered resolutely, adding in the tone of a pouting child, "Besides, I'm not obsessed."

"Fine, fine, I'll help you," Eric replied resignedly. "Isn't that 'Boy's Night Out' party tommorrow night? Take him to that."

"Why didn't I think of that? Eric, you're a lifesaver!" Jason said excitedly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll talk to you later, all right?" Eric offered.

"Sure, bye." Jason said, clicking his phone closed. It was then that he realized that he was passing that same old homeless man yet again, though it appeared that he had not taken a single step towards anywhere else.

'How many times have I gone around this block?' Jason wondered as he made the appropriate tun and headed home.

* * *

"95...96...97...There he goes." Jameson noted as he watched the white car turn away from the Daily Bugle. "Well, back to work." 


	4. Dancing in the Moonlight

Jason peaked just barely above the wall of his cubicle to watch his boss hard at work in his office. The young man had been stealing these quick glances quite frequently, and was relieved that he had not once been caught. Not that it mattered; Jason had made quite a few less-than-subtle advances on the older man in the three months that had passed since Jameson had returned to work. Jameson had put off each one with a callousness that would have put Sherlock Holmes to shame. Jason, however, remained undeterred. Every morning, he would bring in everyone's coffee orders, (fifteen consecutive weeks to making the daily coffee run and counting). It was often brought up that since he was no longer the "new guy", any of the others would be more than happy to go on the usual morning run, but Jason insisted that he didn't mind, causing more than a few colleagues to raise a brow in suspicion.

It frustrated Jason that Jonah was still absent. He determinedly refused to go to Starbucks without Jameson's order, and he felt like a robot, continually repeating that he was "too busy to go right now". If Jameson didn't hurry, someone else would go in the new employee's place, a fate worse than death in Jason's eyes. If someone else went, then he would not get his chance for a little flirting that morning.

Jason rubbed his neck nervously as he looked at a postcard at the corner of his desk. Scrawled very neatly on it was the following invitation:

"**_Boy's Night Out!_**

New York's Gay and Lesbian population's favorite annual party is back for its sixth consecutive year! Everyone's invited, regardless of sexual orientation. Help us celebrate diversity again.

Where:Central Park

Date:July 8th 2006

Time:9:00 pm - Midnight

Open to the public. Come and go as you please."

Jason had been trying to find a way to ask his boss to join him this year. It really didn't seem like the type of thing that Jameson would go for, but it was the only thing Jason could think of to get the older man to even start thinking of a relationship with him.

With the usual uncanny timing, Jameson walked briskly past the young man's cubicle and into his office. Jason's head snapped up in fear of being reproached for being off task. Jameson did not seem to have any intention of doing this, however. Jason followed the man into his office like a puppy on the heels of his beloved master.

"Same as usual?" Jason asked, sticking his head into Jameson's office. Jameson grunted in response, nodding once and dismissing Jason with a wave of the hand.

In record time, Jason was at the coffee shop, having especially the good luck that he had come in at the end of the morning rush. He dropped of all the usual orders, saving his boss's for last as usual. Coffee in one hand and invintation in the other, Jason stepped into the glass office and put the former on his boss's desk. When he didn't leae immeadiately, Jameson gave him an irrate look.

"Well? What do you want?" The older man demanded. "If you're looking for more money, you can get out of my office right now."

"Actually, I thought you might be interested in this...diversity celebration with me tommorrow night. It could use some publicity, and I figured you'd be able to do it justice," Jason offered.

"Can't. Too busy," Jonah replied curtly. "In case you haven't noticed, I've got a buisness to run here."

"I understand that, sir, but bear with me," Jason plummated forward, not as blind to Jonah's glare as he appeared to be. "You see, 'Boy's Night Out' has been a celebration for --diverse people for the past six years, and has been struggling, regardless of it's noble cause. I simply thought you could do something for it."

"That's an odd name for a diversity celebration," Jonah noted with little interest. "Shouldn't there be a 'Girl's Night Out'?"

"There was, the same year that 'Boy's Night Out' first showed up. Somehow things just didn't work out and the two sort of...merged," Jason explained.

"If you know so much about it, why don't you just write about it yourself?" Jonah demanded. "Get out of my office; you've wasted enough of my time as it."

"I would sir, except I feel this is a story that requires i your /i talent," Jason insisted. Jonah finally cracked a grin at this.

"I see; you're still not feeling quite confident to tackle a job of this magnitude," Jameson smirked. He strode around his desk, slapping Jason on the shoulder. "It's all right. Happens to all the greenhorns in the beginning. Tell you what, you write the story and I'll go along for moral support. Only don't expect me to stay too long. I've got work to do too, you know."

"Yes, sir!" Jason agreed, unconciouslly grinning ear-to-ear over his good luck. It was only when the door had nearly closed when he realized that his boss had managed to get Jason out of his office. "Oh, sir? You might want to know when it is..."

Jonah grumbled something in response, but waited, albeit impatiantly, as Jason wrote the details on a post-it note and handed it to his boss. It only took the look on Jameson's face to make the younger man aware that he was no longer needed, and Jason hurried back to his cubicle, his anticipation hardly damped.

* * *

"Ah, there you are, sir!" Jason called, striding up to the greying man. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show." 

"What sort of diversity celebration, is this anyway?" Jameson wanted to know. Jason cut him off before he could get any further.

"Ah, look at this," Jason chuckled nervously, leading Jonah lightly by the elbow towards one of the many tables loaded with food. "I hope you're hungry; I know I am."

"I'm not suprised, the way you pack you're lunchs," Jameson noted. Jonah let out another anxious laugh.

"Well, go on. Mingle a bit," Jason encouraged, realizing at soon as he said just how ridiculas it sounded. Jonah was not the mingling type by any means, yet Jason insisted, "I don't want to look to suspicious. And make sure not to tell anyone your a reporter! They want the publicity, but god only knows what some of these people might do just to draw attention to themselves."

Jonah wandered off on his own, looking confident as ever. Jason lingered by the tables a bit longer, though his attention was not on the food so much as it was on the figure that soon disappeared into the crowd. A dissatisfied sigh escaped him, and Jason tried to find something that would drown the emptiness in his stomach if not ease the pain in his heart. Perhaps Eric was right, Jason pondered. Maybe he was in over his head.

"Jason! Dude, I haven't seen you in forever," A voice called, and Jason was pulled out of his musings. Two men were approaching him, one of which was the handsome-as-ever Eric.

"Where have you been?" asked Eric's date, and Jason gave the first true smile since he had arrived at the party.

"Around," Jason replied vauguely, looking in the direction that Jameson had gone not so long ago. The elder man had already lost himself in the crowd, and Jason couldn't help but wonder if it was really safe to leave him alone.

"He's here, isn't he?" Eric said with a knowing smile. The man with him gave Eric a quizzical look.

"Who's here?" The other wanted to know. Not recieving a prompt answer, he asked again, "Who?"

"J. Jonah Jameson. You should know, Mark," Eric explained, at his boyfriend again. "I told you all about it, remember?"

* * *

Jonah had struck up a conversation with a certain young man, casually mentioning that he had not been to the party before. The unsuspecting fool perked up immediately perked up at hearing this. 

"Oh, so you're single then?" Was the immediate inquiry.

"In a manner of speaking," Jonah replied curtly, suspiciously eying the man in front of him. The person in question was nearly jumping for joy at this bit of news.

"Well, what a coincidence! So am I!" Jonah's eager companion offered quickly. Jonah coughed in surprise.

"Excuse me?" He demanded gruffly.

"Maybe we could go out for drinks sometime, you and me?" The man offered innocently, taking Jonah by the arm and leading him to the dance area.

"Where exactly is this going?" Jonah insisted, looking around him irrately. How was it that he had missed the same-sex couples grinding until now?

"McCormick? What the hell do you think you're doing?" A voice shouted. The pair turned to see Jason stormming in their direction.

"I was in the middle of asking this attractive gentleman on a date," The red-headed man replied calmly. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Yeah, there's a problem," Jason fired back, "The problem being, he's mine!"

"WHAT?!?" Jonah shouted, shock and anger mingled in his voice.

"Wow, how lucky are you?" One awestruck woman commented.

"Come again?" The numb Jameson querried monotonely.

"I've known Jason for awhile," the lady replied in the same fasinated tone. "He doesn't get so worked up about anyone flirting with those he's flirted with unless things are getting pretty serious. Jason must really like you."

It took awhile for this to sink in, as Jameson watched the arguement grow more and more heated. Finally, a strangled, "Jason?" managed to work it's way out of his throat.

"Yes, honey?" Jason asked polietly, forgetting entirely to whom he was speaking. Jameson's face flared bright red. Upon seeing this, Jason closed his eyes and cursed mentally.

"**FIRED**!" Was the first word out of Jameson's mouth. "**YOU...ARE...FIRED**!" With this, he stormed away, Jason following quickly behind in a desperate attempt to save face and job.


	5. Learning to Breathe

Disclaimer: Spiderman and all characters therein belong to Stan Lee, not myself! I only own Jason, and am borrowing the rest so I can put them into adult situations.

* * *

"An' then……he fired me!" Jason slurred, gulping down the rest of his fifth beer. With another hiccup, he signaled for another. "Wors' part is, I couldn' get 'em to listen. He pro'lly hates me now, and I've ruined my chance with him."

"You gotta stop doing this to yerself, kid," Samson sighed resignedly, placing the next beer in front of Jason.

"Stop wha---t?" Jason slurred, reaching for beer number six with a child-like smile. "I love my beer!"

"It ain't the beer, Jason," Samson explained, opening the bottle when it proved to much trouble for the drunken man. "Its that you get yourself into impossible situations, and then try to drink your way out of them."

Sullen again, Jason asked, "What's wrong with me? He didn't even give me a chance…" Tears began to form in the young man's eyes, wiped away quickly when someone sat next to him.

"What're you drinking?" Jameson's voice demanded in disgust. Jason looked at his former employer in surprise.

"Beer, sir?" Was all that he could manage, and the elder man sneered as if it were a dirty word.

"That's not a real drink," Jameson snarled. Slamming some money on the counter, he demanded, "Get the boy a whiskey. One for me too."

"Huh---?" Jason queried dumbly as the familiar beer was peeled from his fingers only to be replaced by an unfamiliar, clear liquid.

"Drink it," Jameson ordered, downing his own drink and motioning for a second. When Jason didn't immediately respond, he growled fiercely, "Com'on, it'll put hair on your chest."

"If ya say so…" Jason whispered, bracing himself and tossing it as far back into his throat, as to swallow quickly. Jameson grinned maliciously as the young man coughed at the burning sensation, and patted him on the back.

"Don't worry kid, we all do that on the first whiskey," Jameson attempted in an almost comforting tone of voice. Jason merely glared back at him. Determined not to be outdone by the man who had just turned him down, he demanded that the barkeeper give him another, and downed it with hardly any more ease than the first. Jameson couldn't help but laugh at the sight and simply contented himself to his drink.

By his third whiskey, Jason thought it wise to give up. Jameson showed no interest in competing with him, and Jason was feeling more light-headed than before. He watched Jameson played absentmindedly with the ice in his glass.

"Sir, do you really hate me?" Jason queried as the other man began to finish off his second whiskey. Jameson spit it out quickly, sputtering and coughing.

"What?" He asked in surprise, and Jason turned beat red.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Jason muttered. "Forget I said that."

"Well, I wouldn't say I hate―" Jameson began, and Jason perked up instantly. "It's more like…irritated…frustrated…" He continued, struggling for an appropriate word, and Jason looked more hopeful as he struggled. With a groan of frustration, Jameson settled on, "Yeah, I pretty much hate you." At this, Jason deflated, and broke down crying. Flustered, Jonah shoved his next whiskey into Jason's hand. Jason attempted a sip and then gave up.

"The whiskey isn't helping, sir," Jason moaned pathetically, dropping the glass and spilling it's contents everywhere.

"Fine, then put on you're jacket," Jameson ordered, standing and pulling Jason to his feet. "I'm taking you home."

Jason struggled with his coat, managing at last to get it on with Jameson's help. The latter then took the sniveling man's arm, and, having paid for the drinks consumed that night, lead him out to the street.

"Where do you live?" Jameson demanded in an authoritative tone. Jason sniffled, and took a minute to get his bearings straight.

"Two blocks that way, sir," He said, quickly followed by a hiccup. Jonah groaned and hauled his intoxicated companion in the specified direction. From there, he was forced to half-drag, half-carry the young man up two flights of stairs before finally arriving at the right door. Jason pulled out a key chain, fumbling with it unsuccessfully, until Jameson took it from him irritably.

"Which one is it?" He commanded. Jason pointed the correct one out with an ungraceful gesture, and his former boss shoved it in the key hole, unlocking the door. "You gonna be all right from here?" He asked, stepping in only far enough to assist Jason inside.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jason slurred. With a nod, Jameson turned to leave, only to trip on a end table near the door, sending a lamp to shatter the floor. He cursed, and Jason stifled a laugh. "Maybe you should stay here the for the night. I have an extra set of pjs."

Jameson grumbled his not so excited consent and demanded first use of the shower, and Jason yielded to this demand immediately. It was only after Jameson had finished his shower that he wondered about the wisdom of it. The warm water had relaxed him to the point of not caring about anything, and without bothering to put on the pjs that Jason provided, he fell onto the softest thing he could find.

If Jonah was too tired to care, Jason was too drunk. When he found another body in his bed, he attributed it to the alcohol, snuggled into the strangely warm pillow, and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Rolling over, he felt bare skin touch his own nude body. With a yelp, Jason sat straight up, cursing immediately afterward due to his aching head. The body that shared his bed jerked awake and followed suit. When Jason's eyes cleared, he recognized Jameson, and blushed immediately.

"What are you doing here?" Jason asked dumbly. Jameson gapped for a moment, obviously as confused as Jason was. Finally, settling on a vague memory, he came up with the best explanation he could.

"You were obviously drunk when I found you last night, so I brought you home," He stated, with an irate calm that only he could muster. "I decided to stay to keep an eye on you."

"Then...why are we in bed together? Naked, no less," Jason wanted to know, afraid that the one thing he wanted most desperately had not happened after all.

"Your hospatality did not undo the fact that it's the middle of summer and your air conditioner is broken," Jameson pointed out astutely, cursing the fact that there was not a cigar to be had in the apartment.

"That doesn't explain why we're sharing the same bed," Jason countered hopefully.

"I know what you're thinking, and it didn't happen," Jameson insisteed with an angry confidence that shot through to Jason's heart.

"Are you sure? How do you know?" Jason querried forlornly, attempting to cling to some hope.

"If something had happened," Jameson stated slowly and with a glare that could kill, "I would have remembered it."

"I couldn't have been that bad," Jason cried defensively, his pride wounded. "I'm sure that if anything, you're pretending to forget because you weren't exactly all that great yourself!"

"WHAT?" Jameson bellowed. "I'll have you know that Maria never had any complaints!"

"She was probably to polite to voice them," Jason countered. His pride wounded by the insinuation that he was no good an the mention of Jonah's deceased wife, Jason clambored out of bed and shoved on a pair of boxers and the first shirt he could find. Jonah glared at him during this process before following suit.

"Get out," Jason demanded sourly, storming towards the front door and yanking it open.

Pants still unbuttoned and jacket and tie slung over his arm, Jameson exited the apartment wearing his signature scowl.

After the door was closed and Jason was reasonably sure that Jameson had gone, he allowed his knees to give out. The familiar feeling of heartbreak hit him full force again, forcing a sob out of his throat.

* * *

That night, Jason found himself in desperate need of a drink. Not wanting to face Jameson again, Jason racked his brain. Remembering the bar that Mark had suggested, "The Bird and the Owl", Jason peeled himself off of the couch and headed out.

He regretted the decision as soon as he stepped in the door. The place was unfamiliar, as well as the people. At the same time, he felt it would be best to at least have a drink or two before he left. It wasn't long after he sat at the bar and ordered his first drink that a man about his age sat next to him.

"You look a bit down," The man noticed, ordering a taquilla for himself. "What's wrong?"

"You know the old proverb, 'Unlucky at cards, lucky in love'?" Jason offered forlornly. His companion nodded, and Jason concluded, "I've always been very lucky at cards."

"Wanna talk about it?" The man offered. Jason didn't need to be asked twice; nevermind that he was half drunk, never mind that he had never met this man before, didn't even know his name. Jason launched into a drunk rant, sobbing the entire way through. The man next to him waited patiently, drinking his tequillas resolutely and not uttering a word.

"So you came here to drink your sorrows away, is that it?" The still nameless man querried. "You need to get your mind off this guy, and I know just what'll do the trick. Come home with me tonight. If things go well, maybe we can make it a regular thing; if not, I can at least take your mind off of him for a night."

Jason siffled, and stared at who he now considered a sort-of savior, then nodded his consent.

"Great! Hey, Delilah, how much do I owe ya? Include this guy's tab too." The man asked, and the curvy bartender brought his tab.

"Have a nice night, John," Delilah said with a grin, eyeing Jason, while John payed the tab.

"You know I will," John replied with a wink, then took Jason by the arm. "Come on, big guy, let's get you into bed."

* * *

It was a night to be remembered, an experience that would never fade, and a moment in time that Jason would never entirely remember due to the drunken stupor in which he occupied it. All the same, when he awoke the next morning, he found that some memories were still semi-intact, and he gloried in rerunning them over and over. John really had a way of entering a man, that was for certain.

A harsh knock pulled Jason out of his thoughts, and his partner stirred, waking from his sleep. There was a pause, and then another knock.

"John, are you in there?" A familiar voice called, and John groaned in pain. "John?"

"What is it, Dad?" John yelled back, rubbing his head. Jason, in a panic, tried to think of where would be the best to hide. It was too late, however, as the door opened, and J. Jonah Jameson stepped in.

"I tried calling you this morning..." He began, eyes landing on the couple in bed. "What is this? _**JASON?**_What the hell is going here?"

"Dad?" John asked in confusion.

"Mr. Jameson?" Jason cried at the same time.

"You know each other?" John demanded of the two, looking back and forth.

"He's my boss!" Jason yelped in fear, "And your dad? Oh, god..."

"Dad, this wasn't his fault!" John insisted, jumping to Jason's defense immeadiately.

"I don't want to hear about it," Jonah growled. "You, get dressed and get downstairs. You," he added, pointing at Jason, then sighed in regret, "Be in the office by one, or you're really fired." With that, he exited the room, and left the two men alone.

"Is there...something going on between you and my dad?" John asked dubiously, and Jason groaned.

* * *

Wow, it's been a long time since I last updated...

Oh, and if anyone can figure out where I've been getting the titles of my chapters, you're brillant!


	6. Only Hope

Jason felt awkward on his first day back to work at the Daily Bugle. He couldn't look his boss in the eye, and if he had any doubts before, he was now certain that Jonah hated him. So concerned was Jason about his stat of affairs, that he had a hard time focusing on his work. By the time he had found a good stopping point in his article, it was dark outside the window by his desk. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced out. Then, in panic, he glanced at the clock, which read 11:30 pm.

"Oh crap," Jason muttered, gathering his things in a flurry of movement. He would have to call Mark and Eric, and apologize. Out of concern for his emotional well-being, they had invited him to dinner, and he had forgotten all about it. The two were probably asleep by now, so Jason would have to call in the morning. Relief for having avoided Jameson all day, and guilt for having ditched his friends battled in Jason's brain until he reached the doors that lead out of the building. He reached for the handle, and pulled. The door moved slightly, but did not open. Jason pulled again, harder this time, with no more success than before.

In frustration, Jason took the elevator back up to his floor and tried to decide how he was going to sleep in his cubicle. It was only when he returned to his cubicle that he noticed that there was a slight flickering in Jameson's office. Against better judgment, he moved in that direction, intent upon informing his boss of their current situation.

Jameson didn't even look up when the young man entered his office. Jason faltered, and almost left to return to his desk, when Jonah demanded, "What do you want?"

Jason stared at his boss without speaking for a moment or two. Jonah had still not looked up from his screen, and Jason wondered if this hadn't been a mistake. Jameson looked up at him, impatiently asking, "Well?"

"We're locked in," Jason explained. Jonah looked unimpressed, turning his attention back to the computer. "Sir, how are we going to get out?"

"We're not," the elder man stated without looking up. "I have a cot around here somewhere. Find it and go to sleep."

"This has happened before, hasn't it?" Jason asked dubiously, looking around for the promised cot. Jameson didn't answer, and as Jason set up the bed, a thought occurred to him. "If I take the cot, where will you sleep?"

Jameson snorted. "I'll go home in the morning," He stated irately. "One of the perks of being boss of this place is that I can take days off when I like."

Jason laid himself down on the cot, and listened to the sound of clacking keys from Jameson's computer. Jameson had left the premier early to begin work on the article. The two interns that had gone with him had apparently emailed their notes to him. Jason was jealous; he would have loved to gone and seen all the stars in their fabulous getups. Jonah must have looked handsome in his tux. He still did, Jason mused, glancing at his boss with his jacket off and tie hanging loosely around his neck. The man could be so distinguished among the elite, simply because he was elite himself.

"What was it like?" Jason wanted to know, breaking the silence.

"Bunch of crap, all of it," Jameson responded without a thought.

"But the actors," Jason countered, hoping to hear something good. "Surely you met someone interesting."

"Crap," Jameson repeated. "Crappy people with their brains filled with crap doing crappy things to ruin their already crappy lives."

Jason snorted as he fought back a laugh. Jameson was still the same, whether in a good mood or bad. Come to think of it, Jason had never seen his boss in a good mood.

"Sir, I have only one thing to say to you," Jason stated, still struggling with the desire to laugh and the need to remain serious. Jameson grunted his invitation, and Jason finished, "You desperately need to be laid."

Jameson choked, nearly toppling out of his chair. "What the hell?" He shouted, brushing cigar ashes off his shirt and glaring at the young man.

"Well, I just figure you wouldn't be so grumpy if you loosened up, you know?" Jason propped himself up on one elbow, now serious.

"And how does _sex_ exactly play into that?" Jameson demanded, picking up the chair and setting it right.

"True, casual sex isn't that great of an idea," Jason conceded with a smirk. He couldn't figure out why he was being so bold and forward all of a sudden; wasn't this what had gotten him fired in the first place. Yet now that he started, he couldn't stop himself. "You aren't the type to go for that, anyway. No, I think you need one person you can screw whenever you get too tense."

"Nonsense," Jameson replied, dropping back into his chair. He didn't like where this was going, and the sooner it ended the better. "Next thing you'll be saying is that I should be sleeping with you."

"Now _there's_ an idea," Jason suggested with an evil smirk. "I'm sure this cot is big enough for the two of us."

Jameson remained resolutely silent, refusing to consider the idea. The young man on the cot, however, was not willing to be ignored. Climbing up from his resting place, Jason walked behind the desk where Jonah sat, and began rubbing his shoulders.

"Come on, you've gotta be tired of staring at that screen," Jason cooed seductively. "You need to relax, and I'm offering you the best method possible."

Frustration overtook Jameson, and he stood up quickly, shoving the chair away. Jason backed away, fear filling the pit of his stomach. He had not expected Jameson to react so suddenly, and the fury in the older man's eyes as he approached Jason was absolutely terrifying.

"Uh, sir?" Jason asked quietly, continuing to back away until his back hit the wall. "S-sir? What are you doing?"

"Taking your advice," Jameson growled, one hand hitting the wall next to Jason's head, the other grabbing the young man's head. Pulling Jason's face towards him, Jonah planted a firm and dominating kiss on his employee's lips.

Jason panicked. This was worse than the drunken kisses that John had sloppily planted on him, what little he remembered of them. This was all wrong. Jason could not detect any love, not even a hint of lust. He pushed Jameson away and stared at him, panting. The latter looked pissed, before sitting in his chair again, and turning his attention to the computer. Jason returned to his cot, equally angry. It was possible, he decided, that it was a bad move to make, but Jameson did not seem to plan on trying the same thing twice.

Jameson tried to convince himself that Jason had asked for it. So why did he feel so guilty? The affection that he had buried for the young man began to resurface, making matters worse. It had been a light attraction, little more than an idea that the man was good-looking and that it would be nice to see him outside of work. Despite his attempts to smother that attraction, Jameson was now being forced to admit that he was fully in love with the young man. He glanced at Jason over his computer. The form of the young man, lying with his back to Jameson, bothered him. He wanted to bark something in Jason's direction, but the snide remark caught in his throat. He saved his article where he was at, and turned off the computer.

Kneeling next to the cot, Jameson reached out and rubbed Jason on the back. Jason stirred, and looked over his shoulder. His cold eyes spoke volumes. Jameson grabbed his arm before he could turn away again.

"I'm sorry," Jameson whispered for the first time since he had visited Maria's grave. Jason's face softened a bit, and he looked a bit confused. Jameson took in a breath, unsure of what he was about to do. Tentatively, he lowered himself to kiss Jason, this time more gently. Jason responded with some confidence, lifting a hand to graze Jameson's cheek. Emboldened by this move, Jameson slid both hands to either side of the young man's face, and the kiss intensified. They came up for air, breathing heavy.

"Wow..." Jason breathed, his hand landing on his boss's shoulder. Jameson, it seemed, was not yet satisfied. With a swiftness that both betrayed his arousal and defied his age, the editor-and-chief was all but stripped of his clothes. Jason was quick to follow suit, yet somehow managed to lose the race to get undressed. When there was nothing left but his boxers, an impatient Jameson claimed his lips again as Jason struggled to remove the unwanted piece of clothing. Jason couldn't help but wonder later if he had ended up on his stomach by his own doing or if Jameson had flipped him over. The only thing he was aware of next was that his boss was now straddling his waist.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Jason demanded, feeling the hardness of Jameson's member resting on his behind. "I'm not a woman!"

"You think I haven't noticed?" Jameson barked, halting instantly.

"I mean...well you know..." Jason stuttered, suddenly embarrassed. He had never had to explain this before. "Look, do you have any lotion or anything?"

Beat red, Jameson pulled away from the young man beneath him. Jason sighed in relief, and relaxed further when he felt something cool being rubbed around his anus.

"Not another word from you," Jameson growled, when he was finished. Jason didn't have time to answer before his boss's hardened member worked it's way into him. Not entirely prepared for it, Jason gritted his teeth and waited until Jameson was fully in. After awhile Jason relaxed, and Jameson, taking note of this, began to fuck the young man's brains out.

Somewhere in the process, the cot broke. Neither one of the men noticed until they were sexually spent and too tired to care. It didn't even occur to them to pull away from each other or get dressed until the sound of closing blinds awoke them both.

"Don't worry," Robbie said, trying to not grin. "No one else is here yet." With that, he closed the door behind him.

Both boss and employee were dressed in record time.


End file.
